


you're half the world away

by mithrilstarlight



Series: A Thousand Lifetimes [9]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-11-18 23:24:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11300991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrilstarlight/pseuds/mithrilstarlight
Summary: Sansa and Willas have always felt like they weren't alone in the world. Much to their surprise, they weren't wrong. On one fateful day, they finally make contact. At first it's wonderful, to have a friend all to one's own. After a while, they realize that they're connected for a reason.





	1. chapter one: first contact

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the movie In Your Eyes. It's a really great movie and I loved the premise, so here we are.

Sansa hated driving in the winter. The plows were usually good at getting the snow off of the roads, but all the salt in the world wouldn’t get rid of the ice completely. She gripped the steering wheel tighter, her leather gloves creaking. Only an hour to go before she was back at Last Hearth. Fuck Alys for scheduling her baby shower on a weekday. And fuck Jon for insisting that she go without him. He knew she didn’t like driving in this weather.

Sighing, she shifted in her seat. The drive from Karhold to Last Hearth was a boring, desolate one. This far north there was almost nothing save trees and stony mountains. Jon loved it. He was an outdoors person. Always hiking and climbing, although never with her. It was for the best, really. She wouldn’t be as good of company as his hiking buddies were. Well, there was that and the fainting.

After the first few incidents, Jon hardly let her go anywhere out of town unsupervised. It was for her own safety, he assured her, and she knew he was right. The doctors could never find anything wrong with her and none of the medications they prescribed ever worked. She was a medical mystery. One second she’s sitting at the dining table and the next she’s slumped over, eyes rolled back and having visions of green hills and golden pastures.

She loved those visions, though. They reminded her that not everywhere in this world was a cold wasteland. There was beauty, even if it wasn’t meant for her. And if anything, the moments leading up to them were when she felt the least alone. As though there was someone right over her shoulder, watching her like a shadow.

The visions weren’t always accompanied by fainting spells, though, and those ones she didn’t mind. She’d blink and for a second she could swear she was somewhere else. Someone else. But they’d always be accompanied by that shadowy presence.

She never told Jon about the presence. Or the visions, actually. The fainting was one thing. Even if it couldn’t be explained, it never did any harm other than scare him a bit. But visions were something else entirely. She had already been labelled as crazy once. Jon wouldn’t jump to that conclusion immediately, but having visions generally wasn’t a good thing. He’d press for more tests and medication and she couldn’t bear that. Not when these visions were the only thing keeping her sane.

Sansa sighed, glancing out the side window as the trees raced by. The sky was overcast, as always. Hopefully it wouldn’t start to snow before she made it back to the house. The forecast had claimed good conditions, but up here it was never a guarantee. She looked back at the road. It went on for miles, straight as an arrow across the flat landscape. During the summer, if the skies were clear, the Northern Mountains were visible from Last Hearth beyond the foothills. This far out, though, not even the foothills would be visible for a while.

A small tingle ran up the back of Sansa’s neck. She looked down at her hands, blinking. Her vision went fuzzy for a second, as though her eyes had gone out of focus. She could swear that she was holding reins rather than a steering wheel. She blinked, again, and both scenes swam before her, coming in and out of focus. It was a strange feeling, as though she were in someone else’s body.

_“Look out!”_

She jerked her head up to see a moose standing in the middle of her lane. She yanked the steering wheel, sending the vehicle into a spin as she slid across the icy pavement and crashed into a powdery snow bank.

“Fuck,” she groaned. Her entire body ached, like she had slammed into a brick wall. The airbag didn’t go off, and didn’t seem like the car was damaged, just covered in fluffy snow. So then why did she feel like the wind had been knocked out of her? She looked up to see the moose casually strolling along disappearing off into the forest. At least she didn’t hit the poor thing.

 _“Fuck, not again,”_ the voice said. It sounded as though the person was right there with her. She jumped in her seat, looking around the car. It was empty, of course.

“No, no, no, this can’t be happening,” she whispered frantically. Squeezing her eyes shut, she ripped off her gloves and buried her hands in her hair, holding her head as she leaned forward against the wheel. “Stop. Get out of my head. I need to get home. I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy!”

_“Will you please shut up?”_

“No, get out of my head. You’re not real!” Sansa shouted, leaning back and beating her hands against the wheel. “I’m not crazy,” she whispered over and over.

_“I’m real, darlin, and you need to shut the fuck up because this is not helping.”_

Sansa’s eyes shot open and she inhaled sharply. “Wait,” she said. “You can hear me?”

* * *

“Fuck, not again.” Willas lay on the ground, his entire body aching after being thrown from his horse. Gods, these things always came at the most inconvenient time. At least he didn’t break anything. But this voice in his head just wouldn’t shut up. It was annoying to say the least.

“Will you please shut up?” he muttered, sighing as he hoisted himself up off the ground. The horse was now grazing several meters away. At least he hadn’t bolted. Willas wasn’t sure if he could run down a horse after a fall like that.

_“Get out of my head. You’re not real!”_

Great, the voice in his head thought _he_ was the imaginary one. “I’m real, darlin,” he started. His vision was still fuzzy, but if he focused hard enough he could see past the snowy banks and keep grounded. “And you need to shut the fuck up because this is not helping.”

_“Wait, you can hear me?”_

Willas scoffed. “Of course I can hear you, you’re the voice in my head.” Gods he must look stupid, talking to the air like this.

_“No, you’re the voice in my head. I’m real.”_

The voice sounded pretty insistent. Willas took the reins of the horse and began walking it back to the stable. “Well, that’s going to be an issue because I’m also real.”

_“I see a horse. Do you… Do you have a horse?”_

Willas laughed. “Um, yes, I have a horse. I have a lot of horses. Why?”

_“Hush, just, tell me what you see.”_

Sighing, he stopped and closed his eyes. “Fine.” Opening them again, he watched as two scenes shifted before him. “I’m inside a car. A nice one. There’s a snowbank outside, well, on top of the car. Lots of pine trees in the background,” he said.

_“That’s my car. I crashed into the snow after narrowly avoiding a moose.”_

“Yeah, you’re welcome for that, by the way,” Willas said as he kept walking.

_“Thanks, I guess.”_

There was a pause. “Okay,” he started up again. “So clearly neither of us is imaginary. Great. Just what I needed.”

 _“You’re telling me.”_ The voice laughed. _“Jon is never going to let me drive ever again if he finds out I crashed the car.”_

Willas stopped again. “Jon? Jon who?” He realized that if this voice wasn’t imaginary, he was talking to a living, breathing person. “Wait, what’s your name?”

_“Sansa. Sansa Umber. Well, Sansa Stark officially. I never changed my name, but I go by his. Jon is my husband.”_

Willas nodded slowly. Sansa Stark. He was hearing the voice of a total stranger in his head. Hopefully this wasn’t a permanent addition to the visions, or he’d be in real trouble. Oberyn already thought he was a little bit crazy for talking to the horses. If he started having whole conversations with the air he’d really be in for it.

_“Are you still there?”_

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I’m still here. I guess you can’t hear my thoughts.” A blessing, for sure.

_“Yeah, I guess so. Okay, I told you my name, now you tell me yours.”_

Willas laughed, shoving his free hand into his pocket. “Fair’s fair. My name is Willas Tyrell,” he said.

_“Willas… It’s a nice name.”_

Willas’s brow creased. “Thanks?” He wasn’t sure what to say. He walked in silence for another few seconds before the voice spoke again.

_“Look, I need to get home before it starts snowing. Can we talk later? How does nine work for you? I should be done with dinner by then.”_

By nine he was usually home and had long since settled into his seat on the couch to read for the night. “Nine is good,” he said.

_“Great, I’ll talk to you then.”_

In a blink, the visions were gone and he did a double take. It was jarring, having half of his sight suddenly vanish. He sighed and then mounted the horse. He might as well get home, then. It’s not like he had any other plans for the evening.


	2. chapter two: introductions

Sansa found it impossible to sit still during dinner. She was proud of the roast chicken she had made, not that Jon would ever comment on it. He was too busy reading the latest article published in one of his precious journals. It was the same thing every night, really. They would eat dinner in silence, she’d clean up while he reads or watches some program on TV, and then she’d go to bed alone.

It wasn’t the worst life, really. She was without want. His salary was big enough that it could support a rather lavish lifestyle for both of them, even if the trade-off was that he was almost always at work.

“Alys looks well,” Sansa said, trying to break the silence. He had been so insistent that she go, and yet didn’t care how it went.

“That’s nice.”

Sansa frowned. She wanted attention tonight. It had been almost two months since they’d last been intimate, and her brush with death today had got her thinking.

“I almost hit a moose on the way home,” she said. That got his attention.

He put down the paper and looked up at her with a concerned expression. “Are you alright? Was it another one of your fainting spells?” he asked.

“No,” Sansa replied hurriedly, reaching out and taking his hand. “It just surprised me around a blind curve, that’s all.” She gently stroked his hand with her thumb.

Jon smiled and put his other hand over hers. “I’m glad you’re safe,” he said. He withdrew both hands and then stood up, closing his paper. “I’m sorry, darling, but I have a double shift tomorrow and really ought to get some sleep. Dinner was excellent.”

Sansa’s heart dropped. He was right, after all. It wouldn’t help any of his patients if he was tired, and early shifts meant he’d be long gone from bed by the time she woke up.

Still, it meant that he’d be asleep on the other end of the house when she spoke to Willas. Having a secret was exciting. Keeping the visions hidden was one thing, but a whole person was different. She’d have a friend all to herself.

Jon departed for the bedroom, leaving Sansa her usual nightly cleaning. She cleared the table and stacked everything in the dishwasher. It was nearly nine, so she left the couple of pots to soak in hot water for a little while. She could take care of them later.

Wiping her hands down, Sansa slipped into the study. It was a small room, decorated in rich wood paneling and warm lights. She loved this room. The shelves were filled with Jon’s medical journals and the like, but she did have her own little corner of novels.

Sansa closed her eyes. “Are you there? Willas?” She reached out, feeling for that presence.

_“Yeah, I’m here. You, uh, just caught me cleaning,”_ he said. He sounded nervous.

Sansa opened her eyes and looked around, focusing on what he was seeing. It was a cute little cabin, albeit a bit messy with shirts and shoes and books. “Your place looks lovely,” she said.

Willas ducked his head, looking down at his feet. _“Oh, thanks,”_ he said. _“Your place is… very nice. Very wealthy-looking.”_

Sansa’s heart dropped. Did he feel bad? She half wished that she could read his thoughts, too. “This is just the study. It’s a small down and Jon has a healthy pay,” she said. “He’s a doctor at the local hospital. An orthopedic surgeon.”

Willas was quiet for a moment and she watched him pace. _“So then what do you do?”_ he asked.

That elicited a healthy laugh from Sansa. “Do? I don’t know, I read and clean most days. Once a week I’ll go shopping in town. I’m not allowed to have a job. You?”

_“I’m a horse trainer. On a ranch,”_ he said.

That explained the never-ending pastures. Sansa sat down in her chair, a plush thing in the corner, and hugged her knees. “That sounds so lovely,” she said. “Where is your ranch?”

Willas laughed. _“Gods, no, it’s not my ranch. I just work on it. It’s outside of Ashford.”_

Ashford. That was down in the Reach, wasn’t it? She’d look at a map later. Nevertheless, it was pretty far south.

_“I take it you’re somewhere up North, given that it’s snowing this early?”_ he asked.

“Last Hearth,” she replied. It was about as far north as one could get.

_“Wow.”_ They were both quiet for a moment. _“So, do you have any family other than Jon?”_

A pain shot through Sansa’s heart at the thought. “Not really, no,” she started. “Jon and I don’t have any children. He keeps saying it’s never the right time. His family live in the area, and they’ve always been kind to me.” She paused. “But no, my family isn’t really around anymore. I haven’t heard from my sister in years and the only brother I have left is down in Greywater. I don’t see him more than once a year at best.” She didn’t think of her family very often nowadays. It had been over a decade since the family fell apart. Mom, Dad, Robb all dead in various accidents. Bran in a coma and only alive because the family’s money can pay for the endless life support. Arya running away to gods know where never to be seen again. Even Jon was killed in combat a few years back. Sansa didn’t have the means to support Rickon, so he went to Uncle Howland. After she had married Jon she had offered to take her brother in. The family trust would pay for his education and everything, but by that point Rickon had already settled into a good life in Greywater Watch and she didn’t want to take that away from him.

_“I’m sorry,”_ Willas said. It jerked her out of her depressing reverie and she wiped a tear from her eyes. _“I’ve been estranged from my family for a few years now. They weren’t exactly happy when I dropped out of law school to become a horse trainer.”_

Sansa chuckled. “No, I imagine not,” she said. “Have you ever thought of reconnecting with them?”

_“I’ve thought about it. I’d love to see my brother Garlan again,”_ he said.

Gods, what she would give to have a second chance at her family the way he did. She prayed night and day that some news of Arya would appear and they could be reunited. At one point she had considered hiring a private investigator to track her down. She could do it, as manager of the Stark estate, but Jon had insisted that she leave it be. If her sister didn’t want to be found, there was a reason. It was best to not worry, and simply let go. Sansa, as usual, acquiesced.

_“You still with me?”_ Willas asked.

“Oh, yes. I was just thinking,” she said.

_“You know I can’t hear you when you do that.”_

She smiled at the jape. It _was_ nice to have a friend. Someone she could spill herself to without judgement. After all, he had been there all her life in some way. “Sorry, I’m not used to talking to another person like this. My life is very quiet.”

_“Look, I need to go out and do my nighttime check in the stables. Same time tomorrow night?”_

Sansa’s heart lifted at the prospect of another conversation. “Yes, absolutely.”

_“Great.”_ He paused. _“Talk to you later, I guess.”_

With that, the visions of his place vanished and Sansa was alone. Crushingly alone. She got up from her chair and shuffled back to the kitchen to clean the last few dishes. When she slipped into the bedroom, Jon was already out cold. She let out a quiet sigh and crawled into bed next to him.

* * *

Willas lay back on his small bed, turning the conversation he’d just had over in his mind. It certainly explains a lot. He remembered a long period in his childhood where he had this inexplicable feeling of loss. He would cling to his mother constantly, as if afraid that she’d disappear one afternoon and never come back. It must have been bleed-over from Sansa. He wondered if anything emotions of his had gotten to her. If anything, his outbursts towards the end of his stint at law school would probably have done the trick.

The next day passed as most did. He woke up at dawn, checked everything, and then let them out to roam for a while before the real work began. Several times he considered opening the connection, but she was probably busy and he didn’t want to spook her.

This time, Willas planned ahead and cleaned up his cabin more. It was a tiny little thing. One main room, a small kitchen, and his bedroom. Last night he had at least gotten the strewn-about clothes picked up, but the place was still a mess. Mother would’ve beat him over the head if she saw this. He had gotten lazy while living alone.

The clock hit nine and he took a deep breath and sat down at his little dining table.

_“Willas! There you are,”_ Sansa said.

He was happy to hear her voice. It was such a lovely voice. “Yes, here I am,” he said. He drummed his fingers on the table nervously. He realized that while he knew her voice, he hadn’t the faintest idea of what she looked like.

_“Is everything okay? You sound nervous.”_

Willas sighed. “Yes, everything is fine,” he said. “I was just wondering, I don’t know what you look like. I was thinking all day and somehow I’ve never caught sight of you in a mirror or anything.”

_“Oh,”_ she said quietly. He wondered if he had been too forward. _“Give me one second, the mirror is back in the bedroom.”_

Willas stood, watching as she traversed her house. If he had to pick a word to describe it, classy probably fit best. Classy and minimalist. He wondered how much of that was hers and how much of it was Jon’s.

_“You’ll have to forgive me, I’m not the most presentable. I didn’t leave the house today.”_

“I work on a ranch. Trust me, you’re probably way more presentable than I am,” Willas said. He started to drift over towards his own mirror. It was a little one, but he knew that it’d be his turn next.

_“Ready?”_ she asked. She must have closed her eyes, because he couldn’t see anything on her end for a few seconds.

When she opened them, he focused on her reflection. She was gorgeous. Gods, she could’ve been a model. His heart pounded in his chest. “Wow,” he muttered.

_“I’m sorry, I’ve been a mess lately-”_

“Don’t apologize, you look… wonderful,” he said. He almost wanted to say beautiful, but caught himself. “The red hair is a surprise.”

_“I got it from my mother. Everyone said I was the spitting image of her. From the few pictures I have, I guess they’re right.”_

He saw the little crease in her brow as she spoke of her mother. His instinct was to reach out and try to comfort her, but he had to remind himself that she was simply a reflection. She wasn’t actually standing in front of him.

_“Your turn now,”_ she said, changing the subject abruptly.

“Okay.” Willas swallowed deeply and then stepped in front of his own mirror. “It’s not a big one like yours, but you can see enough.” He had put on a clean shirt when he got home and had run his hands through his hair to clean it up a bit. There wasn’t any time to shave, though.

Sansa was quiet and his face warmed a tinge. _“You have such a handsome face,”_ she said.

Willas ducked his head, turning away from the mirror. He scratched the back of his head. “Thanks,” he muttered.

_“No, really,”_ she insisted. _“You look very nice.”_

“Thanks. I, uh, didn’t have much time to get-”

_“Shoot, Jon’s home. I have to go.”_ Willas’s heart sank. _“You work alone, right?”_

“Yeah, just me and the horses,” he said.

_“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then. During the day while Jon is at work,”_ she said.

Before he could say anything more, the connection closed. He slumped down onto his couch. His chest ached at the memory of her face. He could already tell he was in trouble.


	3. chapter three: for a reason

_“You know, family is really precious,”_ Sansa said.

Willas knew where this was going. She had been dropping hints for days now. She’d mention how much she missed her family. Or how she wished she could see them again. She was right, really. He was the one who had cut himself off from the rest of the family. It was a passion-driven mistake that any frustrated 20-year-old would make.

_“Do you know where Garlan is now?”_

“Out in Brightwater Keep, I think. I looked him up on the internet. He’s a lawyer now, but that’s all I could find.” After seeing the little bio on the firm’s website, Willas had felt worse than before. Where he had failed, his little brother had succeeded tremendously. No doubt he was the favorite of the family.

_“You should call him. I’m sure he’d love to hear from you.”_

Willas scoffed. “Sure. That’s exactly what the Tyrell family needs.”

_“What’s that supposed to mean?”_ Sansa sounded upset.

He bit his tongue, leaning his head against the wall. He fucked up, all those years ago. He was on the road to getting everything, and he willingly fucked it all up. After his motorcycle crash, he just couldn’t bring himself to care. And it ruined his grades and drove him to dropping out.

“My family values success and prestige over everything. What do I have to show? I do manual labor all day on a farm working with animals. I’m not exactly part of the Tyrell brand anymore.”

_“Bullshit!”_ Sansa shouted. _“That’s bullshit and you know it!”_

Willas straightened. He had never heard her yell before. At least not like this.

_“You have a perfectly healthy, living family that probably misses you more than anything. Six years you’ve willingly exiled yourself. How selfish do you have to be? I’d give anything to see my family again and you pretend like yours doesn’t exist just because you think you’re not good enough!”_ There was a pause. _“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped like that,”_ she said, gentler this time.

Willas slumped onto the couch. “No, you’re right. I’ll give him a call at his office tomorrow.”

They sat in silence for a long while. His chest ached like never before. It physically hurt him that she had gotten mad at him.

_“Maybe…”_ she started. _“Maybe there’s a reason we’re connected. Or, why we made contact when we did. I want to help you, Willas.”_

“I know,” he whispered. “Thank you.” If they were connected for a reason, then he didn’t want to think about how he was supposed to help her. He had seen enough of her and Jon interacting to know what it was, deep down. She openly admitted how unhappy she was, but refused to say anything to Jon about it. It killed Willas inside to watch her waste away in that house day after day.

* * *

Talking to Willas filled Sansa’s days like nothing else had. Once Jon was out of the house and off to work, she’d reach out and make the connection. She had been right. It was wonderful to have a real friend, especially one that was just hers. He was kind, and sweet, and funny. He reminded her of what life was meant to be like. She loved watching him work. The green hills and the bright sun were something she saw so little of here in the north. She regret never going on a vacation to the south.

Whenever she left the house, she’d pop in a headset. If anyone gave her weird looks, she’d simply point to it, and they’d leave her alone. No one would question a woman talking on the phone, even if that phone wasn’t actually turned on.

Day after day, she found herself aching for Jon to leave, and wishing he’d be working late that night. She felt bad for thinking that way, but Willas gave her the attention that Jon never did. He was genuinely interested in her life. Unfortunately, she couldn’t ignore her husband forever. They were invited to a hospital function that night. Formal dress, an expensive dinner, and a string quartet to serenade the evening.

_“You look lovely, Sansa,”_ Willas said as she stood in front of the mirror, showing off the pale blue dress that Jon had bought last week for the dinner. It must have cost him a fortune, but he wouldn’t say. The neckline plunged so low on her chest that she wondered if it was really appropriate for such an occasion. _“Your husband has good taste.”_

Sansa blushed, crossing her arms to hide the bare skin on her chest. It felt weird, showing off like this. “Thank you,” she said. “I hate going to these things. Everyone there is so incredibly boring. All Jon does is talk about work with the other doctors.”

_“I’ll be with you, don’t worry. And I promise, I won’t say a word.”_

Taking a deep breath, Sansa exited her bedroom and joined Jon in the foyer.

“You look stunning, darling. Now let’s go, we don’t want to be late.” Jon ushered her out the door and to their car without another word.

The drive was silent. She let her gaze go out of focus so she could watch Willas go about his evening at home. She wished she could talk to him, but Jon wouldn’t fall for the phone trick at a time like this.

“Thank you again for the dress,” she said.

“It’s nothing, darling. We hardly ever go out, so you might as well look nice when we do.”

Sansa grimaced. Jon was always buying her gifts. Something for when they went out. Something after he was away at a conference. It was always things rather than himself. She had complained to Willas over and over about it. His advice was to simply stand up to him. But that wasn’t her. She couldn’t fight with Jon, he gave her everything she needed in life. Well, almost everything. He certainly loved his job more than he loved her. The spark they had felt at the beginning had long ago faded into nothing. Now, it was just routine.

The banquet wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Nearly every doctor from the hospital was there, their spouse on their arm and a drink in hand. The dinner was lovely. The music was lovely. Everyone fawned over Sansa’s dress, but the empty platitudes left a bitter taste in her mouth. She hated this. Everyone here seemed so shallow and petty. She knew it wasn’t really true, but all of the conversations were the same haughty gossip year after year.

Halfway through the meal, Sansa’s chest started to ache. Every time she blinked, she’d momentarily be in Willas’s cabin, content. Then she’d return to reality and feel an emptiness inside.

Sansa looked down at Jon’s hand resting on the table between them. She reached out and gently placed her own on top of his. Jon slipped his hand out from under hers and picked up his glass of wine, not even bothering to look over at her as he continued his conversation with the man on his other side.

“Jon,” she said quietly. No one noticed her. “Jon,” she said a little bit louder, reaching out to touch his arm. He brushed her off. “Jon,” she said firmly.

“One second, darling,” Jon said, glancing over at her before returning to his conversation.

_“What an ass,”_ Willas muttered.

Gods, Willas was right. Sansa was fed up with this. She had known Willas for perhaps a month and he knew more about her than Jon had learned in four years. She slammed her palm down on the table, rattling the fine china. “Jon!” she snapped. The entire table, as well as the few nearby, went quiet and looked at her.

“What is it?” Jon sounded almost annoyed that she demanded his attention.

Sansa exhaled sharply through her nose. “Do you care that I’m here?” Her words were bitter as she narrowed her eyes.

Jon reached out to take her hand. “Of course I do, darling, but-”

“No, no buts!” Sansa yanked her hand back and stood. “We’ve been here all evening and you’ve said not more than twenty words to me.” The entire room stared at her. A heat crawled up her neck, but she was tired of rolling over.

Jon’s jaw tightened. “We’ll discuss this when we get home,” he said. She knew that tone. It was the tone he used when he wanted her to shut up and let him handle things.

“No, we’re discussing this here. I’m tired of you ignoring me. Here and at home. You never ask me how my day was. You just come home, read, and then go to bed. Do you remember the last time we had sex? Because I don’t.”

That got a reaction from him. Jon stood. He was several inches taller than her, and she was tall herself. “I told you, we’ll discuss this at home,” he said, his voice quiet. “Now stop this, you’re embarrassing us.”

“Oh, I’m embarrassing us? Good, because everyone here deserves to know what a shitty husband you are.” Sansa stood her ground, glaring up at him.

Jon pushed his chair back so he could turn to face her. “I’m a shitty husband? I provide you with everything you could possibly want! I work so that you don’t have to.”

“You have no idea what I want! You never ask me, you just assume that all I want out of life is a nice house and pretty things. I want you to love me!”

“I do love you!” It was Jon’s turn to raise his voice.

Sansa clenched her fists. She wanted to slap him then and there. “No, Jon, you love having a wife to parade around. You don’t really care about me. I want a divorce.”

Jon’s anger melted into shock for a second, and then he grit his teeth again. “You know very well that I’m your only family left, Sansa. You leave me, and you’ll be alone.”

That was it. Quick as lightning, she reached up and slapped him across the face. “I’m going home and packing my things. You’ll hear from my lawyer in the morning.”

Sansa stormed out of the ballroom, tears welling up in her eyes.

_“Holy shit,”_ Willas whispered.


	4. chapter four: fulfillment

Sansa drove through the night from Last Hearth to Winterfell. Her family’s house was still there. Well, it was technically hers now. She could pick back up her career in publishing and move on with life. Independently.

_“Sansa, do you really think it’s a good idea to leave Jon?”_ Willas didn’t sound at all concerned.

“You know as well as I do that my marriage to Jon was loveless,” Sansa said as she got out of the car. She pulled her suitcases from the trunk and hauled them up to the front door of the house. She had to try several keys before one worked, and fumbled in the dark as she dragged herself inside. “I married him because he was safe. He had a stable career and made me feel secure. But not happy.” She paused. “Never happy.”

The house was dark and dusty. Cloths had been thrown over the furniture. She coughed as little clouds of dust rose through the air.

_“How long has that place been empty?”_ Willas asked.

“Ten years,” Sansa said. “I was in boarding school when Mom and Robb died, so I just stayed with friends during vacations. Uncle Howland was technically my guardian, but he didn’t mind. He had his hands full with Rickon in addition to his own kids and I was practically an adult.”

_“Still…”_ Willas drifted off.

Sansa pulled the dropcloth off of her old bed and curled up under the stiff sheets. “I wish you were here,” she whispered before drifting off to sleep.

Sansa woke with the sun, head aching after only getting a few hours of sleep. She couldn’t sleep in, though. Rolling out of bed, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and opened a suitcase. A shower, a change of clothes, and a bit of makeup would cover her lack of sleep.

She drove to the nearest café and bought breakfast. It had been ages since she’d been in Winterfell. The little city hadn’t changed all that much. Nine o'clock rolled around and the lawyer’s office opened. Vayon had been an old family friend and handled the Stark estate. He’d know a good divorce attorney.

Sansa took a deep breath before knocking on the door to Vayon’s office. He opened the door and broke into a smile. “Sansa! It’s been ages! How are you?” The older man scooped Sansa up into a crushing hug.

“I’m doing well, Vayon. I have a favor to ask,” she said as he let go. “I need a divorce attorney. I’m ending things with Jon.”

Vayon’s smile faded. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s for the best,” Sansa said.

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to have one here in the office.” Vayon ushered her across the hall. Sansa swallowed deeply and introduced herself. This was it.

* * *

Willas paced all morning. He hadn’t slept at all and he was dead on his feet as he went about his work. She wished he was there with her. Gods, what did it mean. Not seeing each other face to face meant that he could hide most of what he felt, but after two months it was overwhelming. He was almost smug that Jon was getting dumped. His phone rang, and he scrambled to answer it. “Hello?”

“Willas?” It was Garlan. “Is everything okay? You sound exhausted.”

“I’m fine,” Willas said, waving his hand. “I got a little surprise last night, that’s all. Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, I wanted to call and let you know that Leonette is dying to meet you, and we’d like you to come out for a weekend soon.”

Willas’s heart lifted at the idea of meeting his sister-in-law and two nephews. But at the same time, he couldn’t exactly up and leave Sansa for a whole weekend. Being around his family meant cutting her off for a while so they wouldn’t question his sanity. At a time like this, he couldn’t do that to her.

“Look, I’ll have to give you a raincheck. That little surprise I mentioned may take up the next couple of weeks for me. I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Garlan said and then hung up.

Sighing, Willas realized what he’d have to do. He’d been given an opportunity and he’d be damned if he didn’t take it.

* * *

Sansa stepped out of the office feeling like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. The lawyer would handle everything. From what she could tell of the phone call, Jon seemed reluctant but had accepted the divorce. He would pack the rest of her things and a truck would bring them out here to Winterfell. She couldn’t stand to be in that tiny town any longer.

She stepped out onto the street, breathing deeply as she watched the snow fall. It was a pretty sight. The city had always managed to retain its small-town charm, despite the sprawling streets. She got in her car and started the engine. It’d have to warm a bit before she could drive home. It was times like this where she wished she were further south. Eight months of snow a year got old after a while.

Eventually the little light went off and the engine was warm enough to drive. She made her way out to the countryside, back to her family’s house. She’d give Rickon a call, then maybe clean up a bit. If she was going to stay there for the foreseeable future, she might as well be able to see the place.

The Stark house was large, and buried in snow. It was a miracle that she had been able to get up the driveway the night before. The local plows must have come through recently and cleaned the road. Either way, at least she didn’t have to do it herself.

Sansa started with the sheets, yanking each one, bundling it up, and throwing it in a giant pile in the middle of the floor. Dust flew everywhere, but a quick sweep got most of what was on the floor.

Mid-afternoon, Sansa stood in the middle of the parlor, face glowing from the exertion of cleaning. The place looked the same as it had when she was little, and it made her heart ache. But she was happy to have it back. It was hers.

Sansa closed her eyes and reached out. She wondered how Willas was doing. He had been silent all day. Not even a little glimpse of what he was doing, which was odd.

His surroundings slowly shifted into focus as she opened her eyes. She saw snow.

“Willas, where are you?” She asked.

_“Shit,”_ he mumbled and picked up the pace.

Sansa’s heart stopped for a second. “That’s my…” She reached out to take hold of the mantle in front of her. “That’s my house. Willas…”

She rushed to the door, throwing it open. He was trudging up the snow-covered driveway. Tears welled up in her eyes as she flew down the front steps and closed the gap between them.

* * *

It wasn’t hard to get a flight from Ashford up to Winterfell. So few people flew north in the winter. The flights were long and boring, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out and tell her he was coming. But he was in public. He couldn’t just talk to thin air. And besides, he wasn’t sure if she wanted him to make the trip. He could get halfway there and she’d say no, turn back, and then he’d feel awful. Thankfully, she never reached out to make contact.

Once in Winterfell, Willas asked around for the Stark house. He had looked the family up. They were a well-off family in the area. People would know where they lived. Most people gave him a curious look, telling him that the Starks hadn’t lived in their house for years. It was empty. Nevertheless, he pressed for an answer. The drive out was quiet. He could see why she hated driving in the winter. It never snowed this much in the Reach. Maybe a couple of inches here and there on a bad year, but nothing like this.

Willas parked halfway up the driveway. He leaned his head forward against the wheel. He was making the right decision. He wasn’t about to turn back now. Getting out of the car, Willas trudged up through the snow to the front door. That was when she reached out.

_“Willas, where are you?”_

“Shit.” He had hoped that he’d make it to the front door before she found out where he was, but the driveway was close enough. A smile spread across his numb face despite the anxious knot in his stomach.

_“That’s my… That’s my house. Willas…”_

The front door to the giant house swung open to reveal Sansa. How she could move so quickly through this damned snow was beyond him, but one second she was in her doorway and the next she was in his arms.

He turned his head, gently kissing her hair. Holding her didn’t feel real, even though he knew it was. She was really there. Or rather, he was really here. She pulled back and looked up at him.

“Willas, what are you doing here?” she asked.

He couldn’t stand it any longer. He took hold her her face and pulled her into a kiss. Gods, he had been dreaming of this since he first saw her in the mirror those weeks ago. He broke for air and looked down.

“You said you wanted me here, so here I am,” he whispered. “Sansa, I know things are complicated but-”

It was Sansa’s turn to cut him off, and she put her fingers over his mouth. “Shh, I’m happy you’re here.” She cupped the side of his face with her hand, gently stroking his cheek with her thumb as she leaned up to kiss him in return.


End file.
